


In Which There is Gratuitous Violence Towards Fetal Pigs

by mirkandmidnight



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gratuitous Violence towards Fetal Pigs, M/M, Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-02 01:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4041031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirkandmidnight/pseuds/mirkandmidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire really, really likes science.</p>
<p>Enjolras does not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which There is Gratuitous Violence Towards Fetal Pigs

Grantaire did his best to ignore the dull pounding in his head and jabbed at the fetal pig viciously with the cold metal probe. Next to him, Blond Guy’s expression tightened as he scribbled down notes on a piece of looseleaf. Great, he thought, I’ve somehow managed to piss this guy off already.

He wasn’t even sure why he and Blond Guy had ended up as partners. It wasn’t like the guy didn’t have friends in the class (he definitely did, some guy who was apparently obsessed with moths and another kid who flirted with anything that had a pulse), but they’d already paired up. Blond Guy was absolutely terrifying, so no one ever wanted to pair with him, and Grantaire made it a point to not speak to anyone unless absolutely necessary.

Huh.

Across from them, Montparnasse and Eponine were arguing amiably over the identity of one of the pig’s organs and dammit, Montparnasse looked way too enthusiastic about rummaging around inside a pig’s bowels.

Grantaire cleared his throat, and the two turned in unison to look at him with twin expressions of confusion.

“If you’re going to kill each other or make out, not sure which would be more distracting, could you take it outside? Some of us are actually trying to dissect a carcass here,” he quipped.

Blondie made a little choked noise of horror and okay, no, this wasn’t cute at all.

Eponine stuck out her tongue and Montparnasse winked at him. God, those two were the weirdest couple. Grantaire was pretty sure that they were actually joined at the hip. They always seemed to know what the other was thinking, not that that was at all creepy.

“Anyway,” Grantaire said, turning back to his own partner, “let’s get this show on the road. Forceps?”

Blondie handed it to him wordlessly, and Grantaire grabbed a few pins and began snipping the pig’s muscle wall open. He pinned the flaps of skin back and looked at the pig’s organs for a moment. “Well,” Grantaire said, “I have no idea what any of this stuff is. You?”

By this time Montparnasse and Eponine’s time slot was over, so it was just him and the other guy in the laboratory. Grantaire turned to look at him. 

Blondie’s face had gone deathly pale, and he was gripping the edge of the lab bench so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

Grantaire took a step closer. “Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so good.” Stupid, he berated himself, because Blondie was one of those people who were so annoyingly attractive you had a hard time believing they were real.

Blondie took a deep breath and averted his eyes. “I’m fine. Keep going, I’ll take notes for both of us.”

Grantaire gave him a skeptical look, but continued with the dissection as per the thick packet of instructions laying on the lab bench. Blondie was true to his word and kept detailed notes about the process, although Grantaire noticed that he never actually looked at the pig.

Not that he blamed him. This was actually kind of a disgusting experiment for a college biology course. Grantaire was only here because it was a requirement to graduate.

Ish.

Okay, so maybe he just really liked biology. So sue him.

“So, what’s your name, stranger?” Grantaire asked.

ABlondie didn’t look up from his notes. “IT’s Enjolras,” He said absently.

Grantaire scoffed. “You’re kidding me, right? That’s got to be the most ridiculous sounding name I’ve ever heard.”

Enjolras scowled. “It’s not that bad,” he muttered.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow. “It sounds like you’re sneezing. When you said it just now, I wasn’t sure if I should say bless you or not.”

Enjolras gave him a challenging stare. “Oh yeah, and what’s your name?”

“Grantaire.”

He scoffed. “That’s just as bad!”

“You know what, at least my name makes sense phonetically, okay?” Grantaire frowned and poked at one of the pig’s kidneys. Or at least he thought is was a kidney.

It probably wasn’t a kidney.

“So,” he said, in a futile attempt at making conversation, “why’d you choose to partake in the wonders of Biology? Because I can see you’re so thrilled by it.”

Enjolras-and God, it’s still a dumb name-scribbled something on the paper. “Combeferre signed me up for it,” he muttered.

Grantaire looked at him. “Combeferre. Right. Would that be Moth Man or Casanova?”

He blinked. “Moth Man? And who were the people that were here earlier? The puck looking ones.”

Grantaire raised his hands in mock surrender, still holding the forceps. “Hey, I could tell you, Apollo, but then one of them would probably murder you.””

He frowned. “Apollo?”

“Come on. Blonde guy, blue eyes, looks like a marble statue? What else am I going to call you?”

“I do have a name,” Enjolras pointed out mildly.

“Yeah, but it sounds like a sneeze.” Grantaire grinned cheekily and slit the pig’s throat with ease.

Enjolras twitched.

Grantaire frowned. “Huh, look at that,” he said, poking around with the probe. “You can see right down the trachea.” He waved Enjolras over. “C’mere, Apollo, take a look.”

“Fascinating,” he said, not moving from where he stood.

Grantaire set down the probe and folded his arms across his chest. “Have I done something to offend you?” he asked.

“What?”

“I’m just curious, I mean, you won’t come within five feet of me, I showered this morning, and I don’t have anything in my teeth so the logical conclusion is that I’ve offended you.” Grantaire paused. “Although we haven’t spoken all semester so I’m not quite sure what I did, but you should tell me.”

Enjolras gaped at him, actually gaped at him. “You haven’t done anything to offend me.”

“Then what’s with the,” he made an expressive gesture. “I mean, I know I’m not exactly the most scintillating conversationalist, but I don’t bite.”

“It’s not you,” He said in a strangled voice. “Trust me on that one.”

“Fine, if you say so,” Grantaire said as he sawed open the pig’s heart. “You can diagram that and I’ll do the nose.” He shoved it at Enjolras, who shied away like it was going to bite him.

“It’s dead, Apollo. It’s not going to attack you.”

“Stop calling me that.”

He grinned. “Nah.”

Enjolras groaned and rested his head in his hands. “Be serious.”

Grantaire’s grin turned feral. “I am wild,” he said. “Now, let’s crack this fucker’s skull open and be done with him. I’m sure you’ve had more than enough of my company.”

He swallowed. “It’s not so much the company as the setting.:

“Well, I’ll admit that disemboweling a fetal pig isn’t my favorite method of picking up guys, but sometimes you’ve got to work with what you have, am I right?” He glanced over at Enjolras, who was blushing, and no, that wasn’t at all distracting.

Grantaire carefully cut away a patch of skin at the crown of the pig’s head, revealing the glistening skull underneath. He curled his fingers around its head and pulled.

Nothing happened.

“Huh,” he said. “That was kind of anticlimactic.” Grantaire looked closer, noting a thin fissure in the skull. He looked at Enjolras, who’d gone white as a sheet. “Hand me a probe?” he asked.

He handed it over wordlessly, and Grantaire ran the tip along the fissure. He jabbed it into the crack and, without warning, creamy yellow brain shot out of the hole. Grantaire reared back, dropping the probe.

“Nope,” Enjolras said, and promptly fainted.

“Fuck!” Grantaire yelped, but his hand shot out seemingly of their own volition and caught the other man under the arms. “Jesus Christ, I was not expecting that!”

He lowered Enjolras to the floor carefully (this guy was heavier than he looked, what the hell,P and shot off a text to Montparnasse.

Grantaire: what do I do with a body

The response came alarmingly fast.

Montparnasse: disguise the face by pouring hydrochloric acid on it then dump it in the woods

Montparnasse: Eponine and I will help, it’ll be fun

Grantaire: i worry about you

Montparnasse: :)

Grantaire sighed and slid his phone back into his pocket, then knelt by Enjolras’s side. He put two fingers to the other man’s throat and was somehow reassured by his steady pulse. Because he was glad he hadn’t killed his classmate. That was the only reason.

Definitely.

Grantaire leaned over the other man, turning his head so his ear was over Enjolras’s lips, so he could hear his deep, even breathing.

Okay. That was good. Ridiculously attractive classmate alive, pig skull opened, all was right with the world.

His phone buzzed, and the screen indicated a text.

Eponine: Do not accept any offers of body concealment from Montparnasse. We have a date.

Grantaire: i worry about him

Eponine: :)

Grantaire returned his attention to Enjolras, who didn’t look like he was going to be waking up anytime soon. He leaned over Enjolras’s face again, trying not to notice little details (like how his eyelashes were fine and dark and Christ, who even had cheekbones like that?). Yeah. Little details, nowhere near the center of his attention.

Definitely not.

Grantaire was thinking about how he’d draw Enjolras (charcoal, maybe, or maybe he’d finally get back to painting once finals were over) when the other man sat up lightning quick clunking their heads together and sending them reeling in opposite directions.

“Ah!” Enjolras said, at the same time that Grantaire yelled, “Fucking Christ, what the hell?”

Enjolras was frowning and staring at his hands like they were utterly alien to him, a small frown on his face. “Did I hit my head when I fainted?”

“No, Grantaire said sourly, clutching his forehead. “I caught you, you’re welcome, and I really don’t consider giving me a head injury an appropriate reaction.”

He took one look at Grantaire and the matching bruise blooming on his forehead and winced. “Oh, jeez, I’m really sorry about that.”

“Thanks?”

“No, really, I mean it,” Enjolras said, so earnestly it almost hurt. Grantaire looked into his stupidly blue eyes and for a moment, he forgot to breathe.

Grantaire was screwed.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me take you out for college as an apology?” Enjolras said, voice hopeful.

Grantaire was so, so screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first ever work in the Les Mis fandom! I did a podfic a while ago, but then I didn't actually write that. Yeah, so let me know if there's anything glaringly incorrect in here, please.
> 
> Yeah, so the premise for this story was based off my experience dissecting fetal pigs when I was a freshman. The brain thing happened to me. I didn't fain, but if i had, no one would have caught me because my lab partner didn't actually show up for the dissection.
> 
> So you know, that was fun.


End file.
